Everyone Needs a Best Friend

I remember the day that I met my best friend. I was in first grade and was taken by the new girl that wore blazers to school, but I did not know how to become friends with her. Armed with advice from my mom and a giant bag of licorice, I shrewdly implemented the strategy that my mom and I had concocted the night before. Fortunately, my best friend had a sweet tooth so the licorice was a big hit!

Our friendship started out as many young friendships begin. As children we couldn’t spend more than a few nights together before we were at each other’s throats, and our parents were wise to place strict criteria around our visits to ensure lasting compatibility. In the latter years new challenges presented themselves, as we worked to overcome common teenage jealousies. Later we discovered that miscommunication was a regular culprit of arguments, but through it all, our steadfast commitment to our friendship remained strong.

I have always felt thankful for my best friend, but my gratitude increased even further after the births of my children. The value of a genuine friend is illuminated at this time because there are so many instances where you need someone to provide loving support. There have been numerous times when I have reached out to my friend because I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve relied on her for answers to questions like “did your children ever do…” I’ve sought her counsel when I felt alone, and she is the first person that I think to phone in times of jubilation.  

Fast forward thirty years and the friendship that we formed over candy has been a lasting pillar, and I can’t imagine life without her.  She is the person that understands me without explanation. She is the person that perpetually cheers me on. She is the one that views me free of judgment, with the purity that only true friendships offer.

My wish for moms everywhere is to have one friend like this: one person whose very existence makes a difference in your life, one person that loves you unconditionally, and one person who believes in you. That is my sincere hope because everyone needs a best friend.

Embrace Your MOMentum

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Tell Me a Story

“Mommy, will you tell me a pretend story?” “OK, who would you like the story to be about tonight?” I reply. “Spiderman,” my son says as he stretches his thin legs out comfortably in bed. I snuggle close to him and begin to deliver an impromptu fairy-tale based on my imagination. This is our bedtime ritual, and while it may not be the easiest thing to create intriguing stories on the fly, I wouldn’t change our routine for anything. The story develops as I borrow aspects of my day or week with portions of well-known children’s tales, but to keep it original, I add my own twirls and turns.

I watch my son’s reactions as I weave and entwine the tale in an effort to live up to his exceedingly high standards. There are moments when his look of pure wonderment stops me in my tracks. There are times when an expression of mild amusement makes me amplify my creative efforts. Then on the rarest of occasions, and often when I least expect it, I reach the pinnacle. On those nights, my son will leap to his feet with his hands in victorious declaration, and I know that my chronicle has received his highest honor. It is on these infrequent occasions that I understand why this nightly narrative has become habitual.

With each passing eve, I witness my son’s creative thoughts flourish, and lately he has taken to adding his own variations or input to my tales. He will inject his recommendation with such enthusiasm that I cannot refuse. However there is more to it than that. His thoughtful additions invariably improve my story which leaves me a little in awe to be honest. How is it that he possesses this talent at such a young age? But this is not for me to ask; rather my job is to pull his suggestions into my yarn effortlessly in pursuit of his ever-evasive triumphant dance.

“Quietly Spiderman begins to wrap his silky web around the feeble ankles of the Joker. His web is extremely strong but soft so the Joker doesn’t feel it until it’s too late and the Joker gets defeated once again.” My son places his arm around my neck and says. “That was a good story, mommy.” I thank him though secretly wishing that I had received his highest acclaim. I give him a kiss goodnight and realize once again why this nighttime ritual has persisted.  It is because every instant of it, from start to finish, quite simply feeds my soul.

Embrace Your MOMentum

If you’d like to share your story, email us at info@devynbag.com